


The Mission

by Homunculi



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Bromance, Drinking, Dubious Consent, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Light BDSM, M/M, and there was only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25408249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Homunculi/pseuds/Homunculi
Summary: Peter and Warren don't get along. Professor X sees this as a perfect reason to send them to NYC on a mission together. Alone. But the "mission" they saw as no more than an inconvenient errand would turn out to have much more at stake than either of them could have anticipated.
Relationships: Pietro Maximoff/Warren Worthington III, Quicksilver/Angel
Comments: 5
Kudos: 9





	The Mission

**Author's Note:**

> Sup, fam? I'm back!  
> With more self-indulgent gay shit that nobody asked for.   
> This story is unedited, as are most of my oneshots, so sorry about that!   
> I'm open to adding more onto this if anyone wants it, give a little more expose on the outcome. I already have some "post-ending" written, but no idea where it was going so, I cut myself off.  
> Anyways, I know everyone prefers the Kurt/Warren stuff, so sorry. But I just needed this.   
> Thanks for your support as always, and enjoy :D

“Sounds like busywork, if you ask me,” Peter sighed, looking over to his equally dubious “partner”. 

“Professor, honestly. Why do  _ we always _ get the pointless missions that nobody else wants _ , _ ” Warren asked flippantly.

“It saddens me that you boys distrust my judgement so much, but there are three very important reasons why it must be you two so bear with me. Reason one, this is mostly surveillance work, stuff I can’t busy the most senior members of the team with. Reason two, Warren needs the training, and Peter has enough experience to supervise. And lastly,” he paused and sighed, “the target is operating out of an underground nightclub.”

“Oh, a mob running a shady underground club? Definitely haven’t seen that before,” Warren rolled his eyes.

“Not just any club, Warren. It caters to  _ ahem _ a certain clientele.”

“Spit it out then,” Peter tapped his foot impatiently.

“It’s a gay club.”

“Girls love that shit, send them,” Angel rebutted.

“All of the  _ girls _ as you so eloquently put it, are already senior members, minus your friend Ororo. And I’ve deliberately chosen to send two boys rather than a boy/girl pair for obvious reasons,” Professor X explained calmly.

“Wait! You want us to go undercover?! As  _ GAYS? _ Ahah! Fat chance, old man. Noooope, no way. I’d literally be gay with anyone  _ but  _ him,” the blonde laughed indignantly. 

Peter balked at this, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Now, I’m no fool, it’s been obvious that you two have some cooperation issues. So, you can partly think of this assignment as punishment, and hopefully - a lesson. Besides, you should be thankful. A little vacation to the city, getaway from the rigorous training sessions. Maybe the Big Apple will humble your equally big egos. Go pack your bags, boys. The jet will be taking you to NYC in an hour,” Charles commanded, effectively shutting down opportunity for further protest. 

\---------------------------------

With the X-Jet in stealth mode, the Professor and Hank touched down on the roof of a building just outside the major city limits. 

“Have fun figuring out the subway, boys,” Charles waved them off. 

“Bon voyage,” Hank waved.

“Jerks,” Peter huffed under his breath.

Holding out the map in front of him awkwardly, Peter tried to decipher the quickest route to their hotel. There was no way in hell he was taking a subway, it was much faster for him to run. He could get there in about 30 seconds flat, he estimated. He handed his winged ally the map.

“You’ll need this more than me, bird boy. See you whenever you get there,” he giggled before taking off in a flash.

“Fuck you, man! You’re supposed to be my boyfriend! You could’ve at least carried my bags,” Warren called after him, but he was already long gone. 

“Good thing I’m a light packer,” he sighed as he slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and lifted off high into the sky, his giant wingspan effortlessly carrying him up and around the tall buildings.

Quicksilver had arrived and checked in within about 3 minutes. The extra minute to be blamed on trying to dodge all of the pedestrians and reckless taxi drivers. The place was nothing fancy, average by all means. He couldn’t complain - or so he thought, until he slid in the key and swung open the door to their room.  _ Only one bed. Of course. Of course there would be only one bed. Professor X, if you can hear my thoughts right now, I hate you.  _

Taking that small window of time to have the bed all to himself before Angel arrived, he sprawled out in the middle of the Queen sized mattress and pulled out the relevant mission files. Legs crossed, he nonchalantly flipped through the pages.  _ Clubgoers waking up drugged and disoriented in alleys and club restrooms, all left with identical wounds...Hm, interesting. _

His thoughts were interrupted by loud knocking at the door.

“Open up, man. I know you’re already in there.”

Lazily, Peter rolled off the bed, and got up to let his colleague in. His expression visibly shifted at the realization of the single bunk situation. 

“My wings alone will take up this whole thing,” he gestured at the mattress in disbelief. 

“Then I guess we’re just gonna have to cuddle... _ boyfriend, _ ” the silver-haired man replied with audible disgust.

“Well, aren’t you lucky,” Warren said arrogantly.

“Anyways, I was looking at our files, conveniently the club is a short walk from here. About ten minutes by foot. Doesn’t open till 11, but it’s called... _ Mariposa _ ,” Peter read aloud, squinting at the text.

“Sounds like I’ll fit right in,” the blonde laughed, flapping his wings slightly.

“But seriously, do you know anything about this kind of scene, cause I’m at a loss. The goal is to blend in, ya know.”

“You’ve never been out clubbing?”

“Uh, why is that so surprising? I lived in my mom’s basement playing video games all day before I came to the institute, remember,” Peter defended himself.

“To put it simply, you can expect a poorly lit space with a whole lot of drunk people, bad electronic music, the odd drag queen here and there, and lots of dancing. I think you’ll survive.”

“Okay. But you better stick to me like PB on J, dude. Cause I swear to god, I’m here to get intel - not hit on.”

“Better buck up, then. I plan on actually trying to enjoy this holiday, if you don’t mind. I’ll do the whole espionage thing, but on my own terms,” Warren said bluntly. 

“I don’t like it, either but we’re partners in this. And the Professor said I was in charge of you, trainee. Remember that? We gotta stick together in case shit goes wrong.”

“We’ll see about that.”

\------------------------------------------

Waiting in the line for some time, the two finally got past the velvet rope. Stepping into the packed club, Warren smiled coyly as he watched Peter uncomfortably take a gulp of air like he was about to go under water. The sea of people, the flashing lights, the world felt like it was spinning in slow motion around Peter. More so than usual. Loud music vibrated through him and electrified his body. The hungry eyes of attractive men burned into his skin everywhere he turned. He spun around to look at Warren worriedly. 

The blonde leaned in very close to speak over the loud beat, hot breath teasing his ear.

“Not pussying out already, are you  _ Leader _ ,” he mocked dangerously.

He shook his head.

“I need a fucking drink,” Peter replied anxiously.

The two wove through the mass of sweaty, dancing, scantily-clad bodies until they reached the bar. 

“Two shots of well vodka, please.” 

Knocking back their shots unceremoniously, they paid and shuffled back into the sticky fray to search for anything out of place. 

“Do you think the staff are in on it? They only target mutant guests, it seems,” Peter spoke up.

“I certainly hope not or we might have just drank some roofies. Guess we could say drinking on the job counts as research in this case,” he winked.

“They don’t know I’m a mutant. So, speak for yourself.”

Keeping an eye out for any potentially doped mutants, they made their way through the maze of people. Making his way through the party, Peter nearly lost his breath as he was accosted by a passerby. A hand lustfully rubbing his crotch through his pants. He angrily whipped around trying to find the person responsible, but they had already melted into the masses. That’s when he realized Angel was no longer behind him.  _ Shit.  _ He panicked for a moment until his eyes caught sight of unmistakable wings, pinned up against the wall, and the familiar man attached to them embroiled in a heated makeout session with some random guy.  _ Dear god.  _

Deciding that he was on his own at this point, Quicksilver pushed forward, eyes peeled for anything suspicious. Just then, he noticed a young man with a visible mutation stumbling and grasping the wall, slumping against it and sliding down until he was on the floor. Peter didn’t rush in right away, rather waited for anyone else who might notice. Sure enough, one of the club bouncers came and picked the boy up, following closely, Peter stayed on his trail. This bouncer  _ wasn’t  _ taking this boy to an exit. Instead, there was a mysterious back room, blocked off by curtains, guarded by two other bouncers in their suits. 

“Hey, that was my friend,” he lied to the guards, “can I make sure he’s ok?”

“We don’t take drug abuse lightly here. He’ll be sleeping it off with the bums and drunkards in the alley.”

_ Of course, they’re gonna blame him. And I know for sure that kid isn’t gonna be in the alley any time soon. Fuck! If I try to speed around back there to peek, they’ll notice me. The curtains will move, it will be too obvious. And we have a few more days of stake outs at this place, can’t draw attention to myself like that yet,  _ he thought. 

Wandering back to where he last saw him, he searched for his worthless partner. He buzzed him a couple of times over their specialized communicators, but nada. He searched the club high and low, even checking the bathrooms. If Warren was here, he wouldn’t miss him. It was impossible with the height of his wings, even tucked behind him.  _ Did they get Warren? Or did he just go home with someone? Either way, this sucks, _ he worried. 

It was about 3AM when he gave up waiting in the club, and tiredly walked back to the hotel, checking every side street for his missing colleague as he went - to no avail. The shred of unlikely hope that he was somehow already waiting at the hotel was lost as soon as he opened the door to an empty room.  _ Why did they pair me up with this jackass?  _ He stayed up all night, sick with concern. 

The sun was barely rising as the fallen angel made his walk of shame back to the hotel. He tried to sneak in quietly, but was startled to find an irritated Peter sitting up, wide awake, waiting for him. He couldn’t bring himself to meet his stern gaze, he knew he messed up. 

“What the  _ fuck _ happened last night, Warren?!”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to-”

Peter’s eyes noted the blonde’s disheveled appearance, the hickeys littering his neck. He felt dread churning in his stomach, and a rage rising in his chest. 

“Ya know what, don’t even explain yourself. I doubt you’ve ever actually been sorry for anything in your entire life, let alone last night. And I bet you’ll do it again before the week is out. I hope getting laid is worth losing your partner’s trust, fucking slut.”

Exasperated, and still feeling unrelenting frustration, Peter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He violently threw himself back onto the bed and pulled the covers over his head, wishing this dumb trip could be over already. 

Those words really hurt Warren, and he was trying to figure out why as he took off his spent clothes and showered off his exhausted body. It’s not like he hadn’t heard worse, but coming from Quicksilver, it was different. They always disagreed, and Warren never respected his orders, but he’d never seen him explode like that before. Peter always kept it cool, even when things were at their worst. But this was different from anger, this was hurt. It was raw, evident on his face. 

Nervously, he sat on the edge of the bed. Fearful of getting another verbal lashing, he picked his words carefully.

“Peter, I’m really sorry. I know I fucked up. I disregarded your safety and compromised the mission. It was selfish and I won’t do it again. I promise to obey your orders. Anything,” he softly reassured.

Peter rolled over to face him, eyes dark and puffy from sleeplessness.

“I was just worried about you, idiot. I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to. If you got hurt - or worse while under my supervision. I’d have a hard time forgiving myself. I want to be a good leader, but you’ve gotta help me out here, man. I told you stick to me like PB and your dumb ass went banana and split on me instead,” he laughed weakly, trying to lighten the mood with his bad jokes.

Warren giggled softly.

“Won’t happen again. From now on, I’ll do what you say. Scout’s honor, I promise,” Warren held out his pinky finger.

“I still hate you, you dumb hoe,” he laughed despite himself, reaching out his pinky to intertwine it with the blonde’s.

“Na, you’re just jealous,” Warren winked playfully.

“True,” Peter sighed, smiling softly as he finally drifted off to sleep, leaving the angel to wonder if that was a joke or not. 

\-------------------------------------------

Peter woke up very late that afternoon, just as the sun was going down. He felt like one of those typical teenagers - sleeping all day partying all night. Although, this was hardly a party. He took a moment to admire Warren as he slept. His eyes lingered on his bruised neck a second too long, stirring nagging feelings within him, but he shook them off before grabbing some water from the tap. Tonight, they had other plans. They weren’t going into the club again, but exploring the perimeter, checking for any windows, vents, or hidden exits. The Professor had said he may arrange for them to interview some of the victims who reported their experiences. 

He yawned as he picked up the hotel phone and dialed room service. They hadn’t had anything since arriving yesterday evening, and he was starving. When the large trays of food were delivered to the room, he shook Warren awake. 

“Come eat while it’s still hot. I know it’s technically dinner time, but I ordered breakfast food anyway. Hope you don’t mind.”

“As long as you got pancakes, I don’t give a fuck,” he groaned, crawling out from under the blankets in just his boxers. 

There was a silence that lasted a bit too long as Peter stared at the other man’s exposed body, nervously catching himself and shaking his head.

“Yeah, I did. You act like we don’t all eat breakfast together every morning. And every single day, you, predictable as ever, eat the same thing - pancakes.”

Warren shrugged, sitting at the small table.

“It’s cute that you were thinking of me. I doubt most people would pay attention to that, even if it is every day. I don’t know what anyone eats.”

Peter gave a small smile as he chewed on his food.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

“Gotta get in touch with the boss, but I think it’s routine stuff. Scouting, maybe some interviews with victims.”

“Exciting,” Warren said sarcastically before stuffing his mouth with another bite. 

A tiny amount of syrup glistened at the edge of the blonde’s perfectly shaped lips, and Quicksilver averted his gaze quickly back at his own plate, avoiding the urge to lean forward and lick it off. 

“So, uh….might make our job a little easier if we go while we’re still working with a little daylight. We should get ready,” he suggested, trying to get his mind back to business, “I’m gonna hit up X.”

Ringing back to headquarters with his communicator, he waited awkwardly for an answer. Finally, the Professor’s voice came in over the radio. 

“Peter, how are things on the front line?”

“I don’t have anything concrete for you yet, but I’m onto them. There’s a secret parlor hidden in the back of that club. But it’s heavily guarded, too much so for me to just zoom on in there without causing a scene. So, I’m saving that as a last resort. We’re gonna scout the building for various entry points tonight. Did you contact any of the victims about meeting us? I wanna know what we’re dealing with here.”

“Yeah, I got in touch with three separate parties willing to liaise with you at your hotel room. They’re coming together at around 9 tonight. And please use your discretion. It’s unlikely these people will have much to say, seeing as they were unconscious during the assault.”

“Roger that, boss.”

“How’s Warren behaving for you,” the Professor laughed, the mention of his name capturing the blonde’s attention.

Standing up from his seat at the table, he stumbled over the kicked off duvet from their unmade bed, barely recovering to snatch the communicator from Peter.

“Heyyyy, old man. We’re getting along swimmingly,” he replied coyly.

“Oh, Warren. Is that so,” Charles asked with a tone of disbelief.

“Yeah, in fact, by the time this gig is all over, we might be a whole lot more than just an  _ undercover  _ couple,” he joked.

“Uh-huh. I see. Best of luck to you boys. Talk later,” the conversation disconnected with a quiet beep.

Peter sat on the bed eyeing him threateningly, one eyebrow raised. 

“You’re that scared of getting a reaming, huh,” he mused, “I’m not a fuckin’ snitch.”

“No, I just wanted to humiliate you,” Warren smirked.

“Don’t worry, I already feel that way anytime I have to be seen in public with you,” Quicksilver replied sarcastically, “besides, I think I had enough embarrassment last night to last a lifetime.”

“Oh? Did you not enjoy yourself at the club?”

“My fake boyfriend ran off with some other man, and I had to watch those creeps kidnap another unconscious victim without being able to do anything to save him. So, yeah, I’ve had better evenings.”

“Shit, babe,” Warren cooed playfully, “let me make it up to you. I’ll make reservations for us tonight. Dinner after those interviews. Somewhere fancy, my treat.”

“Pfft. Fuck it. Not gonna turn down free food.”

“Great. Hope you brought something nice to wear,” the blonde chimed.

“ _ You’re _ telling me this? I’m not a stuffy daddy’s boy like you. I’ll go how I want.”

“Guess it’s my turn to be embarrassed being seen with you,” Warren laughed.

“Eat the rich,” Peter smirked, flicking him off and sticking out his tongue childishly. 

\----------------------------------------

The two split up to search the building for any hidden entry points, with Warren taking to the roof and Peter investigating the perimeter. Luckily, there wasn’t anybody around this early in the night. Just a couple of fire exits, which he’d already known about from their visit last night. He found a small window, but it was too tinted to see through, and it couldn’t be opened. Something that would have to be broken out under the cover of the club’s midnight commotion. Angel floated down gracefully, landing beside him. 

“There’s a trapdoor exit on the roof. Probably how they’re getting the mutants out and into the streets unnoticed.”

“Ok, when we go in tomorrow, we need to figure out what room that leads out of,” Peter said.

Aside from that find, they turned up nothing useful, and agreed to retire to their room until the interviewees arrived. Peter rushed around, tidying up the space at the speed of light. The two had managed to trash the place in the span of one night, and it didn’t surprise him in the least. 

“Oh, so  _ that’s _ what makes you useful,” Warren teased.

Peter sighed and rolled his eyes, flopping back onto the freshly made bed, thinking what a damn shame it was that they’d probably sleep through house cleaning everyday with this dumb schedule.  _ The maids won’t be seeing this room for a while. _

“You know,” the blonde started casually, kicking back in a chair with his feet on the table, “I’m not a daddy’s boy. I’m estranged from him as far as I’m concerned, but as long as he keeps the “severance pay” coming, I’ll still take it.”

“Ah, you too? My dad doesn’t know I exist, but it might be for the best. Or at least that’s what everyone tells me,” Quicksilver shrugged.

“Do you know him?”

“Magneto.”

“What?! No way, man. You’re not cool enough,” Warren giggled.

An awkward silence followed until Peter finally spoke up.

“So, why don’t you get along with him?”

“Same reason most don’t. Anti-mutant sentiments, but worse, I suppose - I was a threat to his aristocratic reputation. I tried to hide it from him, when they started growing, but I realize now how much he wasn’t worth it,” he laughed, shaking his head.

Their rare heart to heart was interrupted by a knock on the door. Checking the peephole just to be safe, Peter opened the door. It was their awaited company, thankfully. 

“Hey, guys. Come in, make yourselves comfortable.”

Warren felt suddenly crowded in the quaint room, he scooted to the corner until he was near the window. 

“Peter, I’m just gonna go for a fly real quick, stretch the old wings. I’ll leave the talking up to you,” he said, without really asking permission, and slid open the window to jump out.

“Don’t mind him, he’s odd.”

\---------------------------------

After nearly an hour, Peter had managed to survive his amateur attempt at a proper interview. He felt like he’d managed well enough not to step on any toes or extort anything too personal, but he got what he was really after - Photos of the wounds. All identical in shape and size, left on the fleshy part of the back, thigh, or buttock - cookie cutter type injuries, where a chunk of flesh was removed with surgical precision. They all woke up in the dumpster in the alley on the left side of the building, bruised and disoriented. The mystery still laid with the perpetrated. There was no common person giving the spiked drinks. All of them had been with different people during their nights out, and served by different bar tenders. He was left with more questions than answers. 

The silver haired man was just doing up the top button of his shirt when he was startled by a wolf whistle from behind him. Warren had somehow managed to come back in without him noticing.  _ Sneaky bastard.  _

“Lookin’ spiffy, bro,” the angel grinned, “I better get changed, too. We’ve gotta be there in like 15 minutes, by the way.”

“WHAT,” Peter cried incredulously, “you’d better hurry, ‘cause I’m not carrying your ass there.”

“Chill, speed fiend. I’ll be ready in a second,” he said, as he hopped around, pulling up his slacks. 

With only five minutes to spare, Warren sprayed on some expensive cologne and announced that he was ready. Peter stared at him, expression extremely unamused.

“You did that on purpose. You really expect me to carry you there, don’t you? Want me to run, with you, in my dress shoes. I’ve gotta say, I’m disappointed,” he laughed, “you’re not doing a very good job of making up for last night,  _ babe _ .”

Trying his best to avoid pedestrians, and not scuff his nice shoes, Peter got them to the restaurant in under a minute. He set Warren down, who stumbled a little, looking woozy as he clung to the wall for balance. 

“Yeah, not as fun as you’d thought it’d be, huh? Let’s go.”

They checked in and were led to their seats. The other guests all shot dirty looks at Warren’s wings as he passed. It was some ritzy Italian place. Complete with sparkling water served in delicate glasses, and waiters that put the napkin on your lap for you. The majority of the patrons were a bunch of wealthy older people. Peter was perusing the menu looking for anything he might be able to pronounce when Warren suddenly kicked his leg under the table.

“ _ Shit _ ,” the blonde cursed under his breath.

“What’s wrong,” Quicksilver asked, voice low but concerned.

“My dad is here,” his eyes were wide with shock.

“Seriously? Where,” he looked around, trying not to be too obvious.

“Over there,” Angel pointed subtly, hiding behind his menu, “I can’t hide my wings, he’s gonna notice me. What do I do?”

“Calm down. If he comes over, I’ll do the talking,” Peter insisted quietly.

They tried to enjoy their night, chatting and enjoying their food. All the while, Warren could feel the impending doom creeping up behind his back.  _ I know he’s going to say something, he’s too much of an ass to just be civil and carry on.  _ And that very thought seemed to be his summons as the blonde’s middle-aged father approached their table, a glass of champagne in his hand. He raised the glass disdainfully and spoke.

“A toast, my son. To the fact that you’re not only brazen enough to show off your deformity in a place where you don’t belong, but also shameless enough to run around spending  _ my _ money on cheap dates,” he cast a disapproving look at Peter. 

“Excuse me, sir,” Peter put on the most smug, eloquent voice he could muster, “not to infringe upon this lovely family reunion, but it’s rather presumptuous of you to assume I’m his date. I’m a businessman, and I’m here to discuss some important marketing opportunities regarding the invaluable philanthropic work that Mr. Worthington III here is doing out in Westchester. But seeing as you’re so horrifically insensitive to the current social climate, our discussion wouldn’t concern a man of your tastes. So, if you’d please excuse us…”

\-------------------

“That was great. The look on his fucking face!”

Warren laughed hysterically as he walked arm in arm with Peter, making their way back to the hotel.

“Did you enjoy dinner, dear,” he asked flirtatiously.

“It was um...an educational experience,” Peter joked, “but I could go for some dessert.”

“Ah, right. You have a sweet tooth. How about you have  _ me  _ for dessert,” he winked.

“Okay.”

“W-What?! N-no..I mean, we can just go to Junior’s and get some cheesecake, it’s famous around here,” Warren blushed, rerouting the conversation.

Quicksilver smiled, enjoying the uncommon sight of seeing the blonde so worked up over something so trivial.

“Whatever you recommend, but you shouldn’t tease me if you’re not gonna follow through,” he answered nonchalantly. 

“The gay club really got to you, didn’t it,” Warren asked suggestively.

“You’re the one who’s gay. You’d know better than I would.”

“I’m not gay, Peter. I just swing both ways. I’m an open-minded guy.”

“So, what if my mind is also “open” as you say,” Peter shrugged, “you don’t know me like that, after all.”

“I don’t get what you’re trying to say.”

All Peter could offer in response was a thoughtful chuckle, and they walked the rest of the way in curious silence.

\---------------------------------------

Before they knew it, the next day had arrived, and they were on their way to another night out at the club. Peter had been dreading it, if he was honest, but with it being a weekday, he hoped it would be less crowded at least. To his relief it was, only marginally, but it would still aid their ability to survey the area. And not to mention increased mobility in the event they had to make a mad dash out of there. 

Upon entering, the agreed plan was to split up. They would each chat up a different bartender, attempting to coerce them into spilling some secrets without making it too obvious. Hands splayed across the counter top, Peter leaned in towards the server, speaking up over the deafening music. 

“So, what’s a guy gotta do to get into that back room? Is it VIP or somethin?”

“Sorry, hun. It’s a VIP you can’t buy your way into. It’s by selection only,” the barkeep smirked.

“And who does the choosing around here,” Peter pressed.

“That’s confidential, babe. Oh, and by the way, you might wanna go get your man,” he winked.

“My man?”

“Yeah, the guy you walked in with,” he pointed in Warren’s direction, and as Peter’s gaze followed, his stomach flipped.

There he was, at the bar opposite, the same guy he went home with last time already back to make more passes at him. He was practically hanging off of Warren, blabbering sweet nothings into his ear. The blonde worked to scoot back and gain his space, but the barstool behind him thwarted his efforts. From across the room, their eyes met, the angel grimacing and motioning in a secret, unspoken code that Peter could only interpret as ‘ _help me out here’_. Cutting in between the two with his super-speed, he appeared out of thin air, arms crossed and expression serious. He brushed a strand of windswept silver hair out of his eyes as he spoke.

“Listen, kid. I know you two have a good thing going, but tonight he’s  _ my  _ boyfriend, and I don’t like to share,” he smiled cheekily. 

He stood between the two equally speechless men before dragging Warren away by the collar of his leather jacket.

“Come on, lover boy.”

Once they were within the relative privacy of the bathroom, he released his grip. 

“We aren’t doing this tonight. We have work to get done. You can’t go getting sidetracked on me again,” Peter raised his voice, obviously agitated. 

Rather forcefully, Warren shoved him into the nearest stall, locking the latch behind him. Peter’s unbroken demeanor faltered as the blonde pinned him against the wall. 

“He  _ obviously  _ came onto me. I didn’t do shit. What’s with you?”

Peter breathed in sharply as Angel leaned in closer, shoving his knee between his legs, sliding it up ever so slightly to graze Peter’s most sensitive parts through the fabric of his jeans. 

“It’s almost like you’re...jealous,” the blonde suggested dangerously.

“My interests only lie in the success of this mission,” Peter bluffed, but it showed.

“ _ Good _ ,” Warren whispered, breath hot on his neck, “I know the Professor put you in charge, but don’t act like I’m not consciously relinquishing control to you,” he finished arrogantly, pushing off of him and exiting the stall like nothing happened. 

That little exchange left the silver-haired boy hanging in limbo, questioning his own feelings, still slumped against the stall wall as the blaring music outside reverberated through the room, muffled and distorted. He felt like he was underwater, drowning in this momentary lapse of time, in the tidal wave of questions that suddenly overtook him. But he didn’t have time for that now, he had to get back to work. Catching up with reality, he regained his composure and headed back out into the club. As he made his way over to the next bartender to interrogate, to his relief he saw Warren doing his job, coquettishly making conversation with another lounge employee.  _ With those tactics maybe he’ll at least get some someone to talk.  _

\--------------------------

Back in their hotel room that night, the two shared their findings as they enjoyed some room service, trying to piece together any clues the workers might have inadvertently revealed. Sitting criss cross on the bed, Warren pulled the plate of food onto his lap and eagerly stuffed some fries into his mouth. 

“Ew, man. Do you really have to eat on the bed? I’ve gotta sleep there, too.”

The blonde stuck out his tongue, ignoring his partner’s request to continue chowing down.

Peter leaned back in his chair, unamused.

“Ok, so did you get anything noteworthy tonight?”

“Well,” Angel swallowed, “you mean besides seeing you get all worked up over me,” he smirked.

“Worked up over you? Only cause you’re a pain in the ass.”

“Hey, I wasn’t doing anything wrong, like I said. Gotta say, you really had me sold on the whole ‘acting like a couple’ thing. It was almost believable the way you told that guy off.”

“Almost?”

“Personally, I would’ve gone for something more dramatic, ya know. Like possessively grab me and makeout in front of him or something.”

“I think you’ve seen too many soap operas, Warren. That’s not how real life works,” Peter laughed.

“No, but it would’ve been more exciting,” he winked. 

Peter cleared his throat and looked away, pretending to take a long sip of soda to hide the blush creeping across his cheeks. 

“Well, uh...As we suspected, the people who disappear are most definitely taken to that back room, but it seems they are targeting specific people, not just ANY mutants. And from the sounds of it, there is someone running the show back there, someone watching who picks the people to be drugged and taken back.”

“About that, I might have a hint as to who this ‘person in charge’ might be. The club’s owner is also a mutant, one named Nathaniel Essex. I think he’s a doctor or something, from what the employee let on,” Warren replied.

“Okay, that’s a good start. I’ll give Professor X the name and maybe he can do some poking around with Cerebro.”

\---------------------

As the two finally laid in bed it was the early hours of the morning, but the sun still wasn’t up yet.

“Wow, calling it a night at 4AM? I’d say we’re clocking out early,” Peter joked, looking at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 

“Does that mean you wanna kill some time,” the blonde asked in a sultry tone, closing the gap between them.

“Back it up, buster. There’s not enough room on this bed as it is. I got fuckin’ wing-whipped at least 5 times last night.”

“See, that wouldn’t happen if you’d just let me spoon you,” Warren teased, wrapping his arms around Peter’s lithe waist.

Quicksilver sighed and let it happen. By now he was used to the angel’s outlandish antics. They stayed like that, in a comfortable silence, until Peter noticed his roommate’s breaths growing slower and heavier.  _ He is not about to fall asleep like this. _

“I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Sorry for what,” Warren asked, voice lazy and tired.

“Sorry for snapping at you tonight. It was out of line. When I reflected on it for a minute, I guess I was jealous. Just like I was jealous the first night you went home with someone else,” he shrugged.

Peter wholeheartedly expected this admission to drive Warren back to his side of the bed, so he was more than a little surprised as the blonde gave a gentle squeeze, tightening his embrace for just a moment. The blonde smiled and pressed his lips to the back of Peter’s neck, sending chills down his spine. 

“You’re so full of shit,” he laughed under his breath, but still didn’t let go of the silver-haired man.

“Goodnight,” he whispered with an air of finality, as if to say, ‘I’m not moving’. 

And the two drifted off to sleep.

\---------------------------------

Peter woke up on his back, the blonde’s arm still lazily draped around his waist, and a leg entangled around his. He groaned as he stretched out, trying to untangle himself from Warren’s limbs in the process. He hadn’t even realized the other was awake until he was startled by the sound of his groggy voice.

“You should consider yourself lucky. I’m usually gone before the morning comes. That must mean you’re special,” he joked, wrapping himself back around Peter.

“I don’t wanna get up yet,” he protested.

“I never said  _ you _ had to go anywhere, I just wanna-”

His breath hitched as Warren’s thigh accidentally grazed over his morning erection in their struggle of entangled bodies. The blonde smirked cruelly, and Peter had never wanted to die more than he did at that moment.  _ Just fucking end my life, please.  _ He fully expected Warren to try and take advantage of him in this situation, but instead he politely backed off.

“I’ll pretend that didn’t happen, for the sake of keeping things professional,” Angel said coyly.

Visibly flustered, Peter disappeared in a blur. 

_ God what the hell is wrong with me? I can’t stand him, we’ve never seen eye to eye, we’ve never gotten along. He’s obnoxious, stubborn, and arrogant. Why am I acting like I like him all of a sudden? It should be easy to just blow the guy off, act nonchalant like it’s nothing. Fuck, I’ve gotta go back or it’ll seem even worse.  _

A few moments later he returned just as quickly as he’d left, with coffee for both of them. 

“Thanks.”

They quietly sat there sipping their drinks for a while until Warren spoke up.

“Did you actually mean what you said last night?”

“I don’t know. Before all this, I would have told anyone in the world that I hated you.”

“Harsh. But fair,” the blonde shrugged, “I hated you, too.”

“Pfft, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s just all this time in the gay club getting to my head.”

“That’s too bad. Cause I think you’re actually starting to grow on me, and that’s me being honest,” Warren replied flirtatiously.

“I don’t trust your instincts. That’s probably just your subconscious looking for a quick fuck,” Peter teased.

Warren quirked a brow.

“And if it is,” he asked daringly.

“Hmm, then I’ll have to consider your offer,” Peter smiled, trying to downplay the tangible level of tension.

\----------------------------

After getting the team back at the institute all caught up on their findings, the two had the entirety of this day to themselves. Once again they had to skip a night or two at the club to try and avoid becoming too recognizable. 

“Well, how the hell are we supposed to entertain ourselves for the next two days? It’s not exactly like they gave us an allowance,” Peter groaned as he slumped back onto the bed.

“This is New York, you know. There’s lots to see.”

“You wanna do tourist trap shit?”

“I dunno,” the blonde shrugged, “better than rotting in this hotel room. We could always go to the top of the empire state building - and jump off.”

“You need help,” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Hm, I know a place you might like,” Warren mused.

“Okay, then. Surprise me.”

It felt strange for the both of them, using normal modes of transportation to get around. They got strange looks and sideways glances from passersby on the subways and in the streets. It was markedly harder for Angel to fit in and keep his cool in the general population. Even with his wings neatly tucked behind him, they knocked into things and people shoved against them inconsiderately. He felt trapped and vulnerable in the packed space of the rail car. But just as he felt like his blood was about to boil over, a steady hand caught his own in a reassuring grasp. He whipped his head around to stare at Peter in disbelief, but didn’t pull away.

“What,” Quicksilver smirked, letting go of his hand, “This is the stop you said we were riding to, right? Let’s go.”

Warren led him through a maze of streets and alleys until they arrived in front of a nondescript storefront. Upon closer inspection, Peter realized what this place was - It was an arcade. Without a second thought, he zoomed inside, rushing to the first available PacMan machine he found. 

“I know you too well,” Angel said with a cocky grin.

“I suppose I’ll give credit where credit’s due,” Peter smiled, still not looking away from the screen, dexterously maneuvering the familiar yellow avatar through the maze and around the menacing ghosts.

Warren stayed at his side, watching him play. 

“How did you know about this place?”

“A lot of my father’s big business deals were made with partners and companies located here, so needless to say we spent a good chunk of time in the “Big Apple”. I came here a few times as a kid, killing time while my dad probably sucked some dudes off in a fancy conference room,” Angel laughed. 

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle, too.

“You’re nasty,” he mused.

\------------------------------

After killing a couple of hours in the arcade, they agreed to wander some of the major hubs of the city. If for nothing more than just to say they did. They walked through Time Square, browsing any shops that caught their eye. For their last stop before heading back to the room, they decided to grab some famous New York cheesecake to go.

“Thanks for today, I enjoyed myself.”

“What? Oh...Don’t mention it,” Warren replied, taking a bite of his dessert.

“But you know what would make it even better?”

“What’s that?”

“If you stopped eating on the bed,” Peter teased.

“Ooooh, so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? If you don’t want me on the bed, why don’t you come over here and force me off,” Warren challenged.

In a flash, the cheesecake vanished from the blonde’s hands, reappearing with Peter back in his seat at the table. 

“It’s easier to take the food than to take you.”

“Damn, you’ve got me there. If you wanted a bite all you had to do was ask,” Warren said, walking over to snatch his plate back, noting the obvious missing chunk from his slice, and the small bit of chocolate just at the edge of Peter’s mouth.

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. I’m starting to regret not getting the same flavor as you. That was amazing.”

“I bet it tastes even better if I steal it back from you,” Warren teased, and without warning, leaned in to lick the small trace of cake left behind from Peter’s bottom lip.

The silver-haired man sat in shock, his fingertips rising to brush over the spot that was just assailed. 

“I’ll say it again - you’re nasty,” he finally replied, coming back to his senses. 

“Was it really so bad? Not like I kissed you or anything.”

“I think a kiss is more civil than licking crumbs off of an unsuspecting person’s face,” Peter laughed. 

“Fair. Should I try again,” he flirted.

“Nah, it’s my turn.”

Before the words could even register in his mind, Peter had sped over, gently tilting his jaw as he pulled him in for a kiss, other hand on the small of Warren’s back. But just before their lips met, the Angel backed away defensively, a scared look in his eyes. It struck a chord somewhere deep within Peter, to provoke such an uncharacteristic reaction from the infamous playboy.  _ It couldn’t all be a front, could it?  _ It was a blow to his confidence, but Quicksilver decided to shake it off, and pretend like nothing happened.  _ All bark, no bite.  _

\--------------------------------------------

The following morning, Peter reluctantly rolled out of bed, at a decent time compared to their nights out - the clock read just half past 10. His partner was still fast asleep, messily curled up in the sheets on the opposite side of the mattress. He found himself feeling worse than he should about last evening’s fumble. He shouldn’t feel worse after a night in with a co-worker than after a night out drinking in a club. Slipping out of his clothes, they dropped onto the floor without a sound. Starting the shower, he stepped in and stood under the stream of hot water, hoping the warmth would fill the odd emptiness in his chest. 

That’s when the sound of the shower curtain being pulled back startled him from his thoughts. 

“Dude?!”

“What? You’re the one who tried to kiss me last night. Now you’re afraid of a little shower? Pfft.”

“That’s not even kind of the same thing!!”

Warren ignored his obvious protests, stepping into the shower behind him. Peter tried to ignore him, refusing to budge from his spot under the comfort of the water. 

“Jeeze, save some water for the fish, man. Excuuuuse me,” he cooed, trying to shove his way past Peter with his wing. 

“You’re absolutely shameless,” Peter laughed in disbelief, allowing himself to be shuffled aside so that Warren could soak himself down. 

“That’s not true,” he paused, stopping to lather his hair, “if I was shameless I would’ve let you kiss me.”

“Oh? And here I was thinking I was a step above your usual prey,” Peter replied sarcastically.

“You are. That’s the point.” 

“Huh?”

“Yeah, you heard right. I’m not interested in punching above my weight class. Honestly, I’m too insecure for that shit. Been there, done that - I know I’m just some scummy person not worth more than a one night stand.  _ That  _ I am not ashamed to say.”

“Wow. I think you’re greatly underestimating yourself. Scummy? Sure,” he laughed, “But if you think you’re below anybody, you’re even crazier than I thought you were.”

Warren’s gaze met his own, it was intense and skeptical. He stalked closer, which didn’t take more than a couple of steps before he was invading Peter’s space, their dripping bodies mere inches away from one another in the cramped shower. 

“You don’t have to sweet talk me,” the blonde winked, “if you really want that kiss so badly, you could just ask for it.”

“But I’m not-”

He was interrupted by a surprisingly gentle peck on the lips, fleeting in the spanse of a second, but just as profound as the most passionate of kisses - if not moreso. 

“Whatever,” Peter chuckled as he got out of the tub, “good morning to you, too.”

\-------------------------

Quicksilver left the room on his own for the day. He just needed some alone time. Living on his own in his mom’s basement for so long left him with a tendency for introversion that he couldn’t avoid. Despite the urge to make his way back to that arcade, he instead opted to get some fresh air and walk around Central Park. He stopped to sit atop the tall rocks and take in a bit of sun, while listening to his Walkman. For tonight, they were free, but tomorrow they would have to go back into the hellfires. No amount of mental preparation would make him feel ready for that boisterous discotec. 

Back at the hotel room, Warren spent the day dozing in and out of cat naps, snacking on room service, and watching tv. And he didn’t care if his bagel left enough sesame and poppy seeds in the bed to feed a small country, Peter was just gonna have to deal with it. As he flipped through the channels with disinterest, Peter’s communicator buzzed from the bedside table.  _ He must’ve left it behind.  _

Stretching out and ungracefully army crawling across the bed, he snatched the device up just in time to answer it. 

“Hey, Pops. What’s kickin’?”

“Warren, may I please speak to Maximoff,” Professor X clearly wasn’t in the mood for any antics.

“Can I take a message?”

“Sure, I suppose. But it’s extremely important. Regarding the name you were given of the club’s suspected owner.”

“Yeah. Nathaniel or whatever it was? What about him?”

“Nathaniel Essex is indeed a doctor and very progressive scientist. However, the focus of most of his research is troubling, to say the least. He was fascinated with the idea of genetic mutation, specifically that involving the genetic material of mutants. Dr. Essex experimented with the theory of harvesting mutant DNA and engineering it to customize powers and abilities. In other words, he could tailor or customize the abilities of existing mutants, or even imbue normal humans with mutant capabilities. As you can imagine, his projects never received any backing or funding, due to their inherently unethical nature, but it is believed he took his investigations underground - even possibly running trials on animal test subjects. Although, it has been nearly a decade since the man has published any scientific articles. Nobody truly knows what became of him.”

“Hmmm, if that’s correct, and he’s the one behind the attacks, it would certainly correlate with his interests. All of the victims were missing sizable chunks of flesh, that would be enough genetic material to last him a few good tests, at the very least. Don’t worry, Professor. Tomorrow night, we’re gonna get to the bottom of this.”

“Clever boy. I have faith in you two. Where is Peter, by the way?”

“Who knows. I got in the shower with him this morning, must’ve scared him off,” Warren giggled.

An audible, drawn out sigh could be heard through the speaker.

“I should’ve known better than to expect you to respect his authority. Ah, well....I’ll be in touch.”

“Adios, boss.”

\-----------------------------

As the sun dipped behind the intimidating skyline, Peter arrived back at the hotel. Warren was stretched out, hogging the mattress while he could, A-Team blaring on the television, a bag of chips on his chest. Instead of greeting his companion, he spent the next minute frantically wiping crumbs off the bed. 

“You disgust me,” he exclaimed, kidding but also serious.

Just when he finally thought he’d swept up the last of the debris, Angel sat up and rustled his wings, raining down the rest of the crumbs that had gotten caught by the feathers. 

“Slob,” Peter rolled his eyes, hastily cleaning up the mess.

Kicking off his shoes, he flopped onto the bed, not caring that Warren had decided the middle was his spot for the day. He landed halfway on top of him, but he really could be bothered. At the park, he had become restless and he must’ve run about a million laps full speed to burn off some steam. But hey, who’s counting? The exhaustion from exercise and lack of Twinkies was suddenly catching up to him, and laying down felt so good. He could’ve just nicked some from a random bodega and gotten away with it, sure, but it just didn’t feel right to steal from the people of a city he didn’t even belong to.

“I bet these will change your mind about eating in bed,” the blonde said as he pulled a box of the very treats he had just been craving.

“You got me Twinkies,” Peter questioned, sounding a bit more excited than he’d intended.

“Yeah, when I went to the corner store for snacks I knew you’d probably be missing these,” he replied casually.

Without hesitating, he tore into the box and unwrapped one, unceremoniously devouring the thing in a matter of two bites. 

“That’s cute,” Warren added sarcastically. 

“Oh, by the way. The Professor called while you were out gallivanting.”

Peter looked at him with prying eyes, but his mouth was too full to speak. Only a muffled and expectant ‘mm-hm?’ could be heard.

“An update on that Nathaniel guy. Anyways, long story short - it’s all very suspicious. He is a scientist with a penchant for experimenting on mutant DNA.” 

Quicksilver stared at his teammate pensively, his brow furrowed. The only thing preventing him from being taken seriously was his overstuffed, chipmunk-like cheeks as he chewed on his food, deep in thought. With a labored swallow, he finally spoke.

“I’ll bet you anything that’s why he’s harvesting flesh from those people. I wonder if there’s more to it, something we’ve overlooked. He could be taking all kinds of samples: hair, saliva, semen.”

“Oooooh~” Angel moaned playfully, chuckling at the suggestion, “in that case, I volunteer.”

“You’re sick,” Peter shook his head. 

“Either way, we’re gonna get into that room tomorrow night. If not that, at the very least we have to get ahold of one of those spiked drinks. We’ve gotta find out what they’re using on the victims. I have a hunch it’s more than just a simple sedative.”

\----------------------------------------------------

The following night had finally arrived, it was the big moment and they’d be lying if they said their stomach’s weren’t churning. Like all the times before, they walked past the intimidating bouncer as he lifted the velvet rope for them. They knew what had to be done to get in that back room - one of them, if not both of them, was going to have to intentionally get drugged. In order to do that, they had to be conspicuous, which had been the case for Warren the whole time. They were a little concerned as to why he hadn’t been targeted yet, but they put it down to the fact that neither of them had really drank much. Maybe they wait until you’re tipsy enough to be vulnerable, less likely to care or suspect a doped drink.

But they couldn’t allow themselves to get too drunk, they had to be alert. So, they hatched a plan. They would order strong drinks, but they would only drink a sip of each one, and secretly dump the rest. The rest would be a game of acting. If they could let on that they were more intoxicated than they actually were, they might be served a drugged drink, which they theorized one sip of would be more than enough to tell. Peter also had a small vial hidden on him, to take a sample of any fishy beverage.

The two were only 4 orders in when Warren took a sip, and something was noticeably off. A bitter aftertaste assaulted him, but he played it cool and took Peter to a more secluded corner. The bartender who had just served him could be seen approaching from the distance. The blonde “pretended” he was fading fast, acting woozy, but inside he held his composure. One sip was not going to act so quickly nor so powerfully. 

“Quick, Peter. He’s coming for me, the bartender from the far left, this drink, I could taste it. Take it, but  _ don’t  _ drink it. We can’t let them know we’re together, hurry, switch me cups and act like you don’t know me.”

Quicksilver was nervous, he knew this wasn’t a life or death situation, worst that would happen to his friend back there is a little wound souvenir for the road. But he was still nervous. He poured some of the drink into his vial and disappeared into the crowd, steadily making his way towards that mysterious back room.  _ Shit shit shit. _ He was careful not to lose sight of Angel, now being whisked away by a different worker, one who was disguised as a clubgoer. He knew what he had to do, he was gonna have to pretend to be drugged, as well. It might not work, seeing as they were keeping tabs on everyone who had been targeted, but he had the drink in his hands as proof - there’s always the possibility of human error, even they would know that. 

_ God, I feel like an idiot, _ he thought as he “drunkenly” stumbled through the club, spilling some of his drink on a passerby to really sell the drama. He gripped the wall and clumsily made his way towards the bathroom before an unfamiliar person approached him, they eyed him curiously, but they took a look at the drink he was grasping and seemed to be convinced. It was yet another disguised worker, who slung his arm over his shoulder, hoisting him up and leading him to the unknown. The man dragged him beyond the coveted curtained entrance, and he’d barely even gotten through the door when he was promptly cuffed, and roughly forced against the wall. They frisked him, patting him up and down in search of weapons.

“You can drop the act, kid. It’s too late for your boyfriend,” a cold voice sounded from behind him.

It was a tall, pale man in a suit. Peter had never witnessed him in the club before. 

“What is this place, bastard?!”

“Welcome to the dungeon, little boy. A place where we don’t tolerate sniveling nuisances like you and your partner. But at least he had  _ something _ of value to offer us.”

“I’m a mutant, too! And if I showed you right now, I guarantee you’d never catch me. Where’s my friend?!”

“We have him tied up in one of the private rooms, he’s simply dying for someone to come play with him,” the man laughed evilly.

As Quicksilver looked around, this man’s concept of a “dungeon” became clear. This was some kind of secret BDSM den. Everywhere he looked, people were engaging in all sorts of shameless acts of voyeurism. 

“What kind of drugs are you giving these people?”

“Ah, isn’t it beautiful. It’s unlike any other drug out there. I designed it myself. It’s a powerful aphrodisiac, but slowly, gradually, it lulls the user into a deep, peaceful sleep.”

“I know who you are, Essex. Now take me to my fucking friend,” Peter demanded.

“If you say so.”

Brutishly, he was shoved through the dark room, and down a long, narrow hallway until they reached a room at the very end. As the stern man pushed him through the doorway, Warren came into view. Lining the walls, there were a variety of tools, if that’s what you might call them. Whips, collars, blindfolds, gags, paddles - anything you could dream up. Alone in the center of the room, the angel sat bound in a chair, already stripped down to his underwear, his clothes neatly folded in a pile and set aside. He had an impatient look in his eyes, the smolder intensified by his flushed cheeks. Peter wanted to rush to his side, but the man who he believed to be Nathaniel held him back with an iron grip. 

“Peter? What took so long,” Warren joked, voice laced with a nearly undetectable undertone of lust.

“I have a proposition for you boys. Seeing as I caught you red-handed in your little espionage plot, I have two choices. I could kill you, sure. But where’s the fun in that? So, I think I’ll let you off easy, so long as you abide by my conditions.”

“And what conditions are those, fuckhead,” Warren asked annoyed, finding it a little more difficult to coherently string words together.

“Number 1, you both willingly relinquish your DNA to me. In whatever form my heart desires. Number 2, I want a little show.”

“A show,” Quicksilver narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

“But of course. This is the dungeon, after all. It’s kind of my hobby.”

“You like watching people fuck? You’re a creep.”

“Well, what’ll it be? I could always fuck him myself - in front of you, and then slaughter you both. You’re at my mercy now.”

“Peter, who even cares. Let’s just do it. Besides, I’m kind of in the mood anyways,” the blonde laughed.

“Of course you are, idiot! You’re drugged!”

“Excuse me, can I have a word with him - please,” Angel asked, gesturing for Peter to step closer.

Reluctantly, the man loosened his grip on Peter. Immediately, he tried to use his supersonic speed, to make his attack to get them out of there. But nothing, nothing happened, instead it was just an awkward jog over to his friend. He leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“My powers! I can’t use them!”

“I think he mentioned something - something about an inhibitor field. Don’t worry, us fucking was inevitable with or without this situation,” he winked.

“Says you,” Peter scoffed.

“Just do it.” 

“You heard him,” the mocking voice sounded from behind them, alerting the silver-haired boy back to the uncomfortable reality of the situation, “after all, you should be grateful a guy as pretty as him would even be seen in public with you.”

“You know, that’s funny - the other day he was trying to tell me the exact opposite,” Peter turned to shrug at the offending man, flicking him off before slipping out of his leather jacket.

“We’ll play your depraved little game,” he continued, “but try not to enjoy yourself too much”.

“Hmm. I’ll just be over here minding my business, kid.”

Forebodingly, he sunk into the dark corner. It was threatening in its own way, being watched like prey. Quicksilver cursed himself mentally, trying to ignore the stranger’s presence, formulate a way out of this, and figure out where to even begin with Warren all at once. The blonde giggled, it was loose and carefree. Like he wasn’t even bothered by all of this. Peter glared at him accusingly.  _ Yeah, lucky you in this situation, not even having to use that head of yours.  _

“I’m laughing because,” he chuckled in between words, “this is so fucking backwards.”

“You’re telling me,” Peter sighed, “just shut up. You’re making it really hard to concentrate.”

“Is this your first rodeo,” Essex’s voice resounded from the background.

“I just don’t take pleasure in this kind of thing,” Peter stammered, “why would I,” he tried to sound indignant.

“No need to be embarrassed. It’s even more fun watching first-timers,” he added callously. 

_ Fuck’s sake, _ he thought.  _ Relax, relax. You’ve just gotta sell it till you can weasel your way out of this. Okay.... _ Decisively, he walked over to the wall, grabbing a blindfold and shoving it down over the blonde curls and covering his eyes. 

“What are you waiting for? I know you wanna hurt me,” Warren teased, “think of all that pent up frustration from having to work with me.”

Reaching out, he gently brushed his fingers over Angel’s jaw, running his thumb along his lower lip. His breath caught in his throat as his partner keenly took the digit into his mouth, first licking and then sucking it suggestively. Peter felt himself falling into the motions more naturally as his arousal grew. Gripping a fistfull of hair, he yanked the winged man’s head back, exposing his neck. Leaning in, he trailed soft kisses which quickly escalated into fervent nips and bites. He couldn’t see Warren’s eyes, but he could see the small smirk spread across his lips. That didn’t satisfy him. It wouldn’t be enough until the blonde was begging for him.

He took his time as he walked over to the wall, selecting his next implement. He settled for a whip. Sidling back over to his restrained friend, new toy in hand. Approaching him from behind, he left his wrists bound, but lifted his arms up and over the back of the chair.

“On your knees,” Peter commanded when Warren resisted his downward shove.

“Make me,” he replied, his voice gravelly and daring.

Quicksilver swung the whip back so hard and fast, it could barely be seen. A sharp snap echoed through the room as it connected with Warren’s ass. He hissed slightly at the contact, and his knees buckled ever so slightly. 

“Fuck…”

Reluctantly, he lowered himself to the ground, kneeling with his arms still fastened behind his back. Harshly, Peter grabbed him, and bent him stomach-down across the chair. 

“You’re not very responsive for a sub, Warren. I think that’s deserving of a little more punishment, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Actually, can we take a raincheck? I’m good on the spankings for now,” he joked, still avoiding submitting to his partner.

“I want you to beg me to stop,” Peter added as he brought the whip down on Warren’s ass once again.

The blonde visibly winced at the force, and bit his lip to fight back the noises wanting to escape him. Another lash. Peter heard a barely audible whimper.

“Don’t tempt me. I know how you like to play hard to get,” Peter whispered in his ear, hot breath ghosting over the sensitive area, sending electricity through the blonde’s entire body.

“But that’s not actually the case, is it,” he continued, his voice demeaning in tone, “you’re rather easy. Aren’t you, slut?”

Another crack of the whip.

“A-ah~” the softest whimper slipped from Warren’s mouth.

“Could it be that you’re enjoying this,” Peter teased, stooping beside the bound man to grope the front of his boxers, erection already awaiting his touch.

The blonde arched his back and mewled in pleasure. Quicksilver forcefully pulled Warren’s boxers down and off, exposing him completely, leaving him more vulnerable to the sting of the switch than before. Another whip struck his bare ass, earning a stifled whimper. 

“I thought I told you to beg,” he demanded, lashing him with the whip once more.

“Ah~ please,” the blonde yelped.

“Please what?” 

Another strike.

“Please fuck me,” Warren moaned.

The words alone turned Peter on, but the way he said it lit a fire inside him. 

“How bad do you want me?”

“I need you,” he pleaded.

“Then you’re gonna have to earn it.”

Stepping aside, he gingerly undressed himself, leaving Warren hanging there in anticipation. The villain in the corner was practically non-existent in his mind right now. His lust blurring everything in his peripheral, abandoning it on the outskirts of his conscience. Without much effort, he grabbed some lube from a shelf and set it down within reach. He kicked the chair back from under Warren, leaving him to perch on his knees. Dexterously, Peter undid the bindings on his wrists, retying them in the front of his body so the blonde could have more leverage to support himself. Emboldened by the heat of the moment, he snatched off the blindfold, allowing Warren the privilege of sight. Angel wore a quizzical look, smirking at the vision of his entirely naked colleague standing before him. There was an air of defiance in his face, something that clearly read ‘ _ take your shot’ _ . 

“Well, Master?” 

The question was cheeky, expectant. Peter should’ve expected this sort of thing from him.

“If you want me to fuck you, you’ll be a good little boy and suck me off,” he chimed, taking a seat in the chair before the kneeling angel.

Warren lithely came to sit before Peter, occupying the space between his legs to get closer. He laid taunting kisses along Quicksilver’s inner thigh as he worked his way towards the point of interest. Peter tried not to let on how excited he was in that moment, but his member twitched despite him. Keenly, Warren began sucking his cock, Peter tangled his fingers in the blonde’s hair and tugged possessively. Angel let out a deep, throaty moan in response. Callously, the silver-haired man pushed Warren’s head down instead, forcing him to take his length even deeper. Warren gagged slightly, but Peter didn’t relent. Coughing and pulling away, Angel leaned back, wiping the saliva from his lips off onto his shoulder. 

“Did I say you were finished,” Peter asked arrogantly.

“P-peter, fuck me,” Angel rolled his eyes, his tone feigning submission.

“Hm, I think I prefer what you called me before - instead of my name.”

“Master, please,” Warren purred, putting a little more feeling into it this time.

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he obliged, standing up as he leaned over to grab the lube.

“Get down,” Quicksilver commanded, pushing him roughly down onto all fours.

Angel hissed softly in protest as his bound arms scuffed the floor, holding him up. 

“Hm, do you think you deserve to be prepped-”

“I dunno, do you have a death wish,” Warren snapped, breaking his role entirely.

Peter laughed, thinking that the outburst was cute, so characteristic of him. But he was committed to his character at this point, so he wasn’t about to let his sub get away with backtalk. 

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’,” he replied gruffly, landing a firm smack on the angel’s ass. 

Warren looked back at him defiantly, but didn’t make any further protest, bowing his head back down in acceptance. A small, twisted part of Quicksilver found himself desiring that, to see his partner in pain, that typical cocky smirk replaced by bitten, quivering lips. He wanted to make him tremble at his will.  _ Maybe I can sorta see the appeal in this whole dominance thing.  _ But the other part of him wanted to lean in and whisper that he’d be gentle or something to that effect, although he opted to forgo that, knowing it would just be a lie.

Liberally, he coated his dick in lubricant. Harshly gripping Warren’s hips, he dragged him back and closer to him. He watched the glorious feathered wings shudder as he gently teased the tip of his erection at the angel’s entrance. He pressed his hand between the blonde’s shoulder blades, bearing his weight down until Warren arched his back, pushing his face and chest to the floor. He grunted in protest, but didn’t try to rise.  _ Of all the people,  _ Angel thought ironically as he tried to relax his body and steady his breath. The anticipation was eating away at him. 

Reaching his hand around the front of Warren’s hips, Peter playfully stroked his cock all the while slowly entering the blonde, inch by inch. Momentarily, he lifted his torso back from the floor, snapping his neck around to look at Peter. Tears were welling at the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill down his flushed cheeks. He looked pitiful, pathetic almost, Peter noted mentally as he pushed in up to the hilt, earning a stifled whimper from Warren.  _ Yes, definitely all bark and no bite.  _

However, he was sure that Warren knew he could forfeit at any time, even with their “lives on the line” as this villain so plainly put it. But those stakes really didn’t pose a threat, seeing as their lives were put on the line all the time as X-Men, and they always found a way to live another day. But Peter also knew that Warren’s pride was too great, and he was probably taking this as a personal challenge. And Quicksilver was really banking on that arrogance to keep this show on a roll. Why? Because that’s precisely what this was. Essex wanted a show, and a show he’ll get - all for the sake of distraction. 

You see, as soon as Peter realized his powers were inhibited in this space - he had to make a tough, but quick call. He had to decide that this mission had escalated to a degree that was bigger than them. It’s hard to admit when something is over your head, but that’s a key part about being an X-Man and this was one of those cases. In that short spanse of time from the moment he tried to run and failed, to the point where he was forced to strip down, he had pushed the panic button on the special communicator that was hidden in his jacket pocket. That means that using the integrated GPS tracking system, the rest of the team were rushing on their way from Westchester in the X-Jet to their exact position, which, based on their original flight time out to the city, Peter had estimated would take approximately 25 minutes. And who would’ve the the diversion would be him here, biding his time, fucking his asssignment partner.  _ Just a perk of the job, I guess. _

Warren’s wings flexed instinctively, stretching out in response to the ripples of pain shooting through his spine. The blonde bit his lip and thanked his lucky stars that the drugs at least had him half out of it. Quicksilver watched in admiration how the muscles of his perfectly sculpted back shifted under the skin with every subtle movement of the wings. He rocked his hips back and forth, smoothly and slowly, trying not to push him over the edge. Adjusting his angle slightly, he snaked his arm back around and continued jerking Warren off, stroking in time with his thrusts. The blonde moaned softly, and the tension gradually melted away as he focused on the pleasurable feeling of Peter’s hand. Eventually he found some baser part of him yearning for more. Why not give in and get a reaction out of Quicksilver at the same time, he thought.

“Ah, Daddy~” he whined seductively, turning back to look at Peter coyly.

He would be lying if he said it didn’t turn him on, even just a little. 

“Oh, so you like it now,” Peter teased, slamming back into him with more fervor. 

“Mhm,” the blonde moaned and nodded his head. 

“I want to hear you say it,” he commanded, ceasing all movement at once.

Warren frowned at being suddenly deprived of the sickeningly sweet sensation that was building in him. After all, he was close and his body ached for release. 

“I love it,” he begged.

“You love  _ what _ ?”

“I love your cock, Daddy,” he purred.

“Then why don’t you come ride me,” he dared.

Peter didn’t honestly expect Warren to follow that order, so it was enough of a shock when he obediently got up and crawled toward him as he sat back to reposition. But he nearly choked on his own spit when the blonde climbed astride his lap, face to face with him, hooked his tied wrists around the back of Peter’s neck and pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Warren didn’t hold back, didn’t even hesitate as he bit Quicksilver’s lip, drawing blood and demanding entrance. Peter’s moans were silenced by Warren’s curious tongue eagerly pushing past his lips. Now Angel had the upper hand, he was going to dish out some payback for the humiliation he just endured. He opened his eyes to check for Peter’s reaction and found his face fully rouge and a dawning a shocked expression. It was satisfying, and it spurred his impatience even more. 

“I know you want me, too,” he whispered flirtatiously as he positioned himself and steadily lowered himself down until Peter was fully inside of him again.

The two shared a silence, only broken by the sound of their equally ragged breaths. Warren pressed his forehead against Peter’s and began to move up and down. He winced as the sensation once again felt foreign, trying to warm himself back up. Remembering that Warren’s hands were too tied up for him to maturbate, Peter stretched out and grabbed the lube once more, squirting some into the palm of his hand. Once again, he continued jerking off the blonde, who grunted in ecstasy and began riding him with more vigor as the pain was masked once again. The tension coiled in the pit of his stomach. Even Quicksilver couldn’t hide how good it felt, throwing back his head in bliss, his free hand gripping Warren’s hip tightly. Warren leaned into the crook of Peter’s neck, biting and sucking without regard for the marks it would inevitably leave. 

“Fuck,” Peter groaned, with every motion of Warren’s hips he felt himself edging on climax. 

“Are you close,” Warren asked, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer himself.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “ I bet you want me to fill you up, huh,” he suggested boldly.

“Mnn, please do,” he winked, pulling Peter in for another heated kiss as he rode him harder.

Peter picked up the pace too as he stroked Warren’s cock to match the rhythm of his movements. Quicksilver watched in awe of the handsome man on top of him, as his brow furrowed and he bit his lip.

“Oh god, Peter I’m so close.”

Those words alone sent Peter over the edge, he moaned loudly and dug his nails into Warren’s hip, the fingers that gripped Warren’s cock noticeably trembled. The blonde groaned as he felt the heat of Peter’s load spilling deep inside of him, and within a couple of fervent thrusts, he also finished. His cum shot onto Peter’s stomach, and the excess oozed over his fingers. Despite glory of basking in the afterglow of -  _ whatever _ just happened, Peter knew they had to move, and they had to move now. The team should be busting in through the hatch they noted on the roof at any moment, and neither of them wanted to be caught in this precarious situation. 

Hastily, but without seeming too rushed, Peter grabbed for his shirt and wiped himself down, Warren doing the same with his boxers. 

“Was that enough of a show for you, Mr. Essex,” Quicksilver asked sarcastically.

“Bravo, boys. Gotta say the chemistry was spectacular, it’s a shame all that precious DNA had to go to waste, though,” he said, pointedly eyeing the shirt Peter had just smeared with semen, “but I am a man of my word, so yes, that will do for now.” 

Both of them fought the urge to gag, but carried on getting dressed as if they were expecting him to just let them walk free at this point. 

“Alright, we already know the deal. We’ve gotta give up samples for you, so let’s just get it over with. We don’t wanna cause any trouble,” Warren insisted, awkwardly trying to pull on his pants with his wrists still bound. 

“So ambitious. But if you are so ancy, follow me, we have to go back to the main chamber.”

_ Perfect,  _ Peter thought. The trap door on the roof led directly into that room. If the timing was right, they might even be spared having the flesh ripped from their bodies. Now dressed, minus Warren’s shirt which Peter carried out for him, they passively followed Nathaniel back out into his “dungeon”. There, they watched on as other drugged partiers were subjected to sexual acts or the signature branding as genetic samples were harvested from them. It didn’t help knowing they were about to be next. 

Thankfully, just as the ruthless doctor was demonstrating the process to them, using a helpless mutant as an example, the loud screeching of metal could be heard above them as Jean telepathically ripped the trap door off its hinges. Warren looked to her, then to Peter in shock.

“Yeah, you can thank me later,” he replied.

“You can’t do anything if you come inside,” Peter called up to Jean, “they rigged the place with power inhibitors!”

“But I’m sure this guy would know where they are,” Warren cheekily pointed to Dr. Essex, and it was game over. 

Jean entered the criminal’s mind like it was nothing, and searched for the information she needed. Within a minute, she deduced the location of the inhibitors and rushed to search and destroy. Peter and Warren rushed to join the others as they guarded the entrances, and helped escort out victims in the back. In the front, the Professor and Beast evacuated the club attendees in the front, with the exception of the workers. Police shortly arrived on the scene and began detaining suspected persons. 

Their job here was done, and boy were they glad to get the hell out of New York City. When all was said and done, they joined up with all their other teammates and boarded the X-Jet, they couldn’t even be bothered to go grab their bags from the hotel. Although, the Professor was nice enough to arrange their stuff to be shipped back to the Institute for them. 

  
  


As soon as they landed, they couldn’t wait to rush back to their rooms and shower. Peter obviously had the advantage there. As soon as the plane door opened, Warren expected him to disappear in a flash, but he didn’t. It had been a long night. Actually, the sun was rising at this point. They were both exhausted and  _ sticky. _ Ororo, who had stayed back at the school, ran up to greet her familiar friend and soon as she saw him walking, well - limping, through the halls, trying to make a beeline to his room unnoticed.

“Warren,” she called after him, trying not to be too loud to wake the other students.

“Ororo,” he smiled, “what are you doing awake isn’t it like 6AM or something?”

“I was worried sick about you. I overheard them talking about the distress signal. Why are you walking like that? Are you hurt?”

“What? N-no, no. I’m fine. Partied all night in leather pants, they chaffe,” he lied calmly, trying to play off his embarrassment as Peter bit back a laugh.

Storm eyed them suspiciously, but let it slide, chalking it up to a probable lack of sleep making the two act delirious. 

“Alright, well, goodnight. Go get some rest. I’m just glad you’re both back safely.”

“Will do,” Peter waved with his typically playful grin.

They got to Warren’s room first, but Peter insisted on coming in.

“We aren’t sharing rooms now just because we fucked okay,” the blonde sighed wearily. 

“No,” Quicksilver laughed, “trust me I’m ready to go hide in my room and avoid all social interaction for the next two weeks -  _ minimum _ , but before I do, I just had to make sure...What happened it - I feel, uh, I don’t know how to say it without sounding patronizing. Look, I’m not an idiot okay, I know we never really got along. And this trip was the first time we even got to know each other, maybe we shared some good times, and then it had to end like  _ that _ and I -”

His words were coming out so fast, and he was stumbling over them. Angel almost found it endearing.

“End like  _ what _ ? I couldn’t have asked for a better end to our trip, Daddy~” he winked.

Peter laughed and playfully punched him in the shoulder.

“I’m not  _ that  _ much older than you. Jeeze,” he joked.

“But it was a nice touch. Anyways, goodnight, man. Or good morning, whatever,” he waved before making his usual speedy exit. 

\----------------------------------------------

A few hours later, Peter woke up to the soft sound of someone knocking at his door. Feeling groggy, he rolled off the mattress like a lifeless zombie, his blackout curtains maintaining total darkness to spare his tired eyes. It was Warren, he just grumbled and stood aside to let him in, shutting the door behind him before getting back into bed and pulling the covers up to his chin. Warren slipped in behind him, spooning him the same way he had a few nights before. No questions asked.

“The bed felt empty without you there,” Angel softly explained, tightening his hold around Peter’s waist.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Peter mumbled, still half asleep. 

And the two of them slept together in his room, in each other’s embrace all through the day and late into the night, catching up on some much needed recuperation. Warren’s eyes fluttered open, and the first thing they rested upon were the marks he had left on Peter’s neck, now bruised and noticeable on his pale skin. He smiled to himself, feeling proud of them. He sat up and admired Quicksilver while he slept, wondering if he would mind sleeping like this indefinitely. 


End file.
